The Lies We Tell Ourselves
by eaglescorch
Summary: Two years after the fall of the Enclave, the secret history of the rise of Arthur Maxson is revealed as the Brotherhood struggles to bring a sense of civilization back to the Capital Wasteland and defeat those who wish to destroy it.
1. There are Poisons That Blind You

Chapter 1

There are Poisons That Blind You...

On an unmarked street in what was once the city of Washington, a predator stalked its prey. Three Super Mutants were hulking around an encampment. One of them was chewing on the bones of the last unlucky traveler to cross their path. In less than two minutes, none of them would still be alive. Hiding beyond their vision, a man was tracking them through the sights of his Gauss Rifle. The first shot killed one of them and confused the other two. He had time to reload. The second shot was exactly as deadly as another body struck the pavement with a sickening CRACK!

The third mutant now could see where the shots were coming from. Even for the stupidest creatures, a suit of winterized power armor was hard to miss. The assailant had to reload, which gave the mutant a chance to reach for his Chinese assault rifle. He began spraying bullets in the direction of the attacker, who retreated out of sight. When the bullets ran out, the mutant charged forward holding the rifle like a club, rather than reload. It was the last mistake he made; his attacker had a clear line of sight. With one shot to the upper torso, the mutant collapsed to the ground, his chest pulverized. He was still breathing, though he wouldn't be for long.

"Puny human!" He shouted through bloody teeth, "You think this insignificant wound will stop me?"

"No," replied the voice, "but this will." He shot him in the head. He paused to admire his handiwork, then buckled over in pain, unable to grit his teeth any longer. The mutant had no finesse, but even firing blind can land a bullseye if you're lucky. He could see blood dripping out from his lower chest plate. He stood upwards and started to walk in the direction of GNR. He'd suture himself up there.

"Noise came from over here!" A new voice sounded. He froze. Five new Super Mutants, likely from a nearby camp, were rushing towards him. He'd been so focused on his targets he hadn't thought to check his surroundings before he opened fire. "Metal man! He killed Super Mutants! Super Mutants will kill the metal man!"

"Shit," he cursed. They all raised their weapons to fire, he raised his rifle to fire back. They were carrying some heavy firepower, the chances of survival were slim. Lucky for him, he wouldn't need to risk those odds today. Several laser beams from an AER9 laser rifle stopped the Super Mutants in their tracks. One of them set off a grenade that one of the Super Mutants was holding. The blast killed three of them, the other beams picked off the other two.

The man stared in shock for a moment, before a voice called out from behind him.

"You know, one of these days I'm not going to be here to save your ass," it said. He recognized it, sighed, then turned to face them.

"Nice to see you too, Sarah," he said as she walked towards him.

"You're bleeding," she said, noticing the blood. He looked down, swallowing hard as his focus caused the pain to intensify. "So the mighty Lone Wanderer is human after all, huh?"

"Yeah... Yeah, you mind keeping watch while I deal with that?" He asked. She shrugged and proceeded to take up watch. He moved to treat his injuries. The 'mighty' Lone Wanderer's real name was Thomas. As he removed his helmet, he revealed the face of a young man of the wasteland. His hair was short, black, trimmed nice and neat with a beard to match; his eyes were hazel, his stare was kind. His skin was the color of coffee with a few drops of cream mixed in and was smooth to the touch. All in all, he didn't cut the figure of a veteran soldier; he seemed more like an experienced surgeon. Indeed, that's likely what he would have become if circumstances hadn't forced him to take a new path in life.

He slipped out of his power armor next, then out of the old t-shirt he was wearing beneath that. Bullets had managed to pierce him in the abdomen, though none appeared to have hit anything vital. Knowing this wasn't going to be fun, he injected himself with Med-X to numb the oncoming pain. Using a pair of forceps he kept on him, he plucked the bullets out one at a time, gritting his teeth the whole way through. He then used a spool of steel wool and a pair of tweezers to suture the wounds in a crude but effective manner. His t-shirt was halfway on when he realized that Sarah was no longer watching the street, but watching him. He paused, holding the two ends of his shirt right above his stomach.

"What?" She asked.

"Didn't know you had such a keen interest in anatomy, Sarah," he replied, narrowing his eyes at her as he smirked.

"I'm making sure you're in fit condition," she explained, "that's all." He kept smirking. She frowned. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to kick you so hard, you'll be singing soprano." He stopped smirking, and she smiled. He finished redressing, then slipped back into his power armor.

"I'm guessing you didn't come all the way out here because you were worried. What's going on?" he asked.

"My father wants to see you as soon as possible. I came to collect you," she revealed.

"You volunteered?"

"No. Drew the short straw. Any other questions? No? Good. Come on." He did, and they started off for the Citadel.

* * *

The Elder's age was showing when Thomas met with him. His steps were slow and infirm, but he refused any aid from Star Paladin Cross. When he found his seat in the Great Hall, he dismissed her, and she took up position outside the door to bar entrance. This was a meeting for these two men and these two men alone.

"Take a seat, my child. I do not mind," he said, gesturing to any of the open chairs in the room.

"I prefer to stand Elder," Thomas replied.

"Ah yes of course," he took a deep breath. "I apologize. At my age, a chair is a welcome relief."

"You don't look a day over seventy-five to me, Elder," Thomas smirked.

"Heh. The flattery is not necessary, my child. I am well aware of my age and the limitations it puts on me. Not even the strongest of us can resist the pull of time..." He seemed to drift in thought for a moment before returning to the matter at hand. "I digress. I did not recall you to the Citadel for pleasant conversation. There is something I need from you."

"Anything Elder," Thomas replied. Elder Lyons responded by pushing a file across the table which Thomas picked up. The words TOP SECRET were burned in bright red lettering across the front cover. Beneath them was the badge of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, with a little-dotted line underneath and a few words.

"The Arsenal of Democracy?" He asked, bewildered.

"Yes. We found that file in our archives recently. We believe it to be the codename for a military installation of some kind. Most of the contents were irrecoverable, but we did manage to get some useful information from it. We believe it is underneath the Washington Navy Yard, intact." He emphasized the last word.

"What's in it?" Thomas asked, flipping through the file.

"If I knew that, we would not be having this conversation. I want you to investigate it."

"You mean the Pride?"

"If I wanted the Pride to do it, I would be telling Sarah this, not you. No, I need them in case there is an emergency. We have far too much on our plate at the moment. I'm content to leave Talon Company to the Regulators, but that still leaves us with the Super Mutants. Not to mention the Outcasts. We don't have the manpower to spare at the moment."

"You think I do?"

Elder Lyons frowned and crinkled his wrinkly brow. "I may be old but I am not foolish. You have allies, willing and able to assist you, and your own stock of supplies to support the expedition. Before you say anything else, Star Paladin Cross has already volunteered to go with you." There was an affirmative knock on the entrance door.

"And if someone on the Pride gets hurt while I'm gone?"

"They survived before they had a medic. I am certain they will survive without one for a time." Thomas thought about that for a moment, wondering if that was an insult. He decided that given who it was he was talking to, it probably wasn't, and moved on.

"All right. I guess it's not a problem. I'll need a few days to get my team together and to map out a route, but I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Good," Elder Lyons nodded. "In that case, there is one other matter I'd like to discuss with you. Actually, it would be more accurate to say I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

"I require an honest answer, my child," Elder Lyons added, in a way which Thomas found rather puzzling.

"I've never lied to you before, Elder. I don't see why I would start now.."

"All right, what is your opinion of Arthur Maxson?" He asked. Thomas didn't reply immediately. Not because it was a hard question or one he had to think about, just because it was one of those out of left field kind of questions.

"Uh... Fine I guess?" he finally said. Lyons made a gesture with his hands to elaborate. "He's a good kid. Well-meaning, if a little naive. His devotion to the Brotherhood of Steel borders on fanatical, but given his family name, I guess that's not surprising. From what Sarah tells me, his marksmanship's pretty good for his age, though not spectacular. I could shoot better with my BB gun when I was his age. There's nothing really exceptional about him, though he certainly is determined to change that. Why do you ask?"

"I want to make him your apprentice," Lyons declared. Thomas blinked.

"What?"

"And I want you to take him with you to find this installation."

"Elder, I really don't think that's a good idea. He's a child..."

"So were you when you joined us."

"I'm serious! He's twelve! If he were older, say sixteen or seventeen, I might be okay with this, but he's twelve. He's not even a teenager yet." A silence hung over the room for a moment, then Elder Lyons sighed.

"My child, please understand. I am not forcing this onto you. I am asking you to take him on as your apprentice."

"Okay. I refuse."

"Let me finish," Elder Lyons said firmly. "Arthur is one of the last descendants of the first family of the Brotherhood of Steel. His mother and father, Jessica and Jonathan, were good people. I daresay they were some of the finest the Brotherhood of Steel had to offer this world. When his father died, Jessica sent him here, to serve under me. A few months after that, she too passed away. I promised her I would shape him into a fine young man, one worthy of his family name..." He sighed again, "that is no longer a promise I can keep. I am old, feeble, some might even say incapable. Needless to say, I'm not able to care for him anymore. Sarah does her best, but she is needed in the field more often than not. When she assumes the post of Elder, I cannot see his situation improving. Within these walls, he learns very little. The few times we let him go outside he only catches glimpses of the wasteland. He doesn't comprehend the magnitude of what is out there or what the people face. He knows nothing of their struggles. Truthfully, he knows nothing at all. You can teach him though. You can show him the wasteland as few others could. You could make him understand what it is we are fighting for!" He concluded with that statement, before adding softly. "At the very least, you could provide guidance to a child in desperate need of it."

Thomas had stood there and listened to the entire speech without moving a muscle, and now that it was over, he still didn't move a muscle. He didn't know how to respond to any of that. He was essentially being asked to be a big brother for a kid he barely knew. He didn't like this plan one bit, so why was he having such a hard time mustering up the strength just to say no? Perhaps it's because they did have one thing in common. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed that maybe Elder Lyons had picked up on it, and that's why he was being given this assignment in the first place.

They were both, in different but similar ways, strangers in a strange land without family to guide them. Perhaps in that regard, they were brothers.

With that in mind, he swallowed his pride.

"Where is he?"


	2. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

Chapter 2

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

Arthur Maxson was packing his things. Moments earlier, he was brought before the Elder, and informed that his guardianship was at an end. He would no longer be in the care of the Elder or even the Sentinel, but instead by an outsider. One who had joined their ranks without ever taking the Oath of Fraternity. He'd always wanted to go outside and do something for the Brotherhood of Steel. Being leashed to the Lone Wanderer was not how he wanted to do it.

As such, he was in a bitter mood, glaring at everything as if it was the cause of his problems. He didn't have all that much to pack, a few pairs of clothes, some snacks, a few bottles of Aqua Pura, so on and so forth. Still he took his sweet time, partly because he wondered if he'd even be coming back alive. He could delay no longer when a knock came at the door. He walked over and unlocked it, cracking it open to find the Sentinel on the other side.

"May I come in?" She asked.

"Uh... Yeah, sure." He opened the door and let her enter. He went back over to his desk.

"How are you?" She asked.

"All right," he said, letting her in. She sat down on the bed while he made his way around the room.

"Do you want to talk?" She asked.

"Not really."

"You sure about that?" She asked as he shoved something else into his bag with great force. He paused after that and frowned, turning to face her.

"Not really." He walked over and sat down next to her, leaning into her. She wrapped her power-armored arm around him with a gentle tug. "I'm scared Sarah. I wasn't ready for this."

"Really? That's not what I expected from the boy whose soul was forged from eternal steel."

"That's not funny," he replied. "I mean, I know this assignment means that the Elder thinks I'm ready to go out into the world, but what if I'm not? What if I can't do whatever it is he expects of me?"

"He doesn't want you to conquer the world, Arthur. He wants you to observe, study, and understand. In a way, it'll be class on the road, plus Thomas is still one of the Pride so you're bound to run into us out there too. It'll be fine, I promise." Sarah always had a soft spot for Arthur Maxson. She hoped to see him grow into a fine young warrior one day, but until then he was her foster brother. No matter who handled him, that made her his big sister, and she'd do whatever it took to make sure he was all right. Even if it meant getting shot by him on one occasion. "There's something else, isn't there?" She guessed. "This isn't just about my father's expectations." Arthur shook his head against her breastplate. "What else is troubling you?"

"It's... him." He replied.

"Who?"

"The Lone Wanderer. Knight Thomas Ulster. He's the one who'll be training me."

"Yes? What about that troubles you?"

"I don't know him Sarah," he whimpered. "Not well. I've heard stories, Three-Dog talks about him all the time. I know what he's done, but I don't know him. I don't know what to expect. I just... I just want to stay with you." He said, hugging her. Sarah smiled.

"Heh. I wouldn't worry, Arthur. You two will get along fine once you get to know each other."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," she replied, razzing his hair. "He's a good person. If I'm honest, if I were in trouble, there's no else I'd rather have at my side than him."

"You mean that?"

"Absolutely," she spoke from the heart, and Arthur could tell she was being straight with him. "Come on, finish packing and head for the courtyard. I'll see you there."

"Yes ma'am!" He gave her a salute, a bit more confident in what was to follow. She exited the room, satisfied, and out of the corner of her eye noticed a shadow retreating down the hall. What neither of them in their whole chat was that just outside the room, a man was listening in. A man in a modified utility jumpsuit with the numbers 101 etched on the back, now walking away with a smile on his face.

* * *

Rothchild lifted the ban on Arthur, letting him access the lab and say a quick goodbye to Liberty Prime. After that, Arthur entered the courtyard to find a going away party ready to see him off. Elder Lyons stood in front of the exit, flanked on one side by Sentinel Lyons, and on the other by Star Paladin Cross. In front of them were the six members of the Lyons' Pride, forming a row. There was one noticeable absence.

"We've been waiting a while," said Thomas, leaning against the wall behind next to the lab door. "You ready for this?"

"Yes sir!" He said, giving a salute.

"Good. That makes one of us," he sighed. "Let's get this show on the road." They made their way across the courtyard to Elder Lyons, who greeted them with a warm smile.

"This is a momentous occasion. I wish we could offer it more ceremony than this, but it will do. Ahem..." He cleared his throat. "Thomas Ulster. In light of my inability to care for Arthur Maxson, I transfer his protection and education over to you. I name him your apprentice. Now, under our laws, simple Knights are not usually eligible to receive apprentices. It is a responsibility reserved for seasoned field officers. As such, I am bestowing upon you the rank of Paladin Lord." Sarah shot her father an odd look when he said that as he stepped forward to shake Thomas's hand. "Congratulations."

"Thank you Elder," Thomas replied. He still couldn't help but notice Sarah's expression. It was a look of surprise, the kind which said "Oh god, what have you done?". He didn't have time to pry, though, Arthur was next.

"Arthur, over the years since you entered my care, I've seen you grow into a fine young boy. Now I must trust your care to another. I hope you can understand."

"Yes Elder!" He saluted.

"Thank you. With this assignment, you are a Squire no longer. I name you an Aspirant of the Brotherhood of Steel. Wear the title with honor. Show the Capital Wasteland they have nothing to fear from the next generation."

"Y-Yes Elder... Thank you Elder!"

"Sarah. If you will..." Elder Lyons took a step back, and Sentinel Lyons stepped forward.

"Pride! Arms!" They each raised a laser rifle. "Ready... Aim... Fire!" They aimed at the skies above the others opposite them and fired, forming a roof of laser beams. Sparks fell like confetti upon the ceremony when the beams struck each other. They repeated the process three or four times, then stopped. "Dismissed!" They all marched off. Sarah and Star Paladin Cross moved forward to Arthur. Cross got down on her knees and presented Arthur with a shiny new laser rifle.

"In honor of your becoming an Aspirant, please take this weapon. May it slay your enemies and bring the justice of the Brotherhood of Steel wherever you go."

"Thank you Star Paladin," he replied, taking it. It was a bit different than the models used by his colleagues, darker, more intact. It almost looked like it had come fresh off the assembly line. Cross stepped to her feet and moved back, allowing Sarah to step forward. As Maxson slung his new weapon over his shoulder, she pulled out a combat knife and pointed it at him.

"You know where this goes right?" She asked. He stared at the tip of the blade and then nodded. She flipped it over in her hands so she was holding the tip, and the hilt faced Arthur. "Show me." He took the knife from her hand, bent over and pulled up his pant leg. He slid the knife into his sock, pushing it down far enough so that it stabbed into the shoe. He then brought the sock over the blade and the pant leg over the hilt. Sarah smiled. "You're gonna go far, kid." She ruffled his hair and started to follow the Pride, only for Thomas to stop her and lock arms.

"What's a Paladin Lord?" he whispered in her ear.

"It's a special rank equal to Paladin Commander. Usually, you get a team with it, one loyal to you and you alone. They operate outside Brotherhood regulations and laws. They do what we can't, or rather, they do what we're not supposed to." Her voice took on a sharper edge with that last sentence.

"Why exactly did he give it to me?" Thomas asked.

"The shoe fits, but you tell me. What did he ask you to do?"

"He told me to find something."

"That's it?"

"Yes. That's it."

"Well, whatever it is, it's important and it's dangerous, or at least my father thinks it's dangerous. Be careful. I don't want to lose Arthur... or you." She walked away, and for a moment, Thomas got the impression she actually cared about him. He didn't linger in the moment; he, Arthur, and Cross had a long road ahead of them.


	3. Mr Maxson Goes to Washington

Chapter 3

Mr. Maxson Goes to Washington

They crossed the Potomac after leaving the Citadel, then made a beeline for Rivet City. If the Lone Wanderer was going to do this, he needed his team, and that meant they would be going on a little bit of a journey. He had Cross, now it was onto the next one. As they crossed the rickety old bridge onto the carrier, Arthur looked out at Arlington across the river. For the first time in a long time, he got a good look at the sheer devastation that had been visited upon the area around the fortress he called home, and silently looked back on his time in the Citadel with new appreciation. He followed Thomas and Cross into the stairwell of the ship, where they descended several flights of stairs until they reached a bulkhead. There was a sign saying The Muddy Rudder hanging above it. He noticed a faint smell of vomit and bile, obfuscated by the equally pungent smell of floor polish.

Thomas pulled the door open and they stepped inside. The place was busy, Thomas immediately recognized some regulars including Flak and Tammy Hargrave, the former of which greeted him with a stoic nod of appreciation and the latter of which greeted him with the kind of vulgarity that would make a sailor cry. Thomas ignored her and made his way down to the bar, zeroing in on the man in the leather jacket.

"Hey there," Thomas greeted. The man in the leather jacket turned around to face him, revealing a young face with a narrow pencil thin mustache, framed by greasy hair. A face which lit up when he recognized the man who greeted him.

"Tommy!" He sat up and the two shared a friendly embrace. "What's shaking? Hey! Bonny! A couple of drinks on me for the boys and girls from the Brotherhood!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll put it on your tab, Butch," the bartender groaned. Anyone with eyes and ears could tell she never expected to see the caps she was owed at this point.

"Heh ha! Man is it good to see you! How've you been?" Butch asked.

"I've been doing well. I see you weren't kidding about the, uh, facial furniture there." He pointed at his mustache.

"Yeah, I thought I'd give it a try. You got a problem with that?"

"Hey man, whatever works... I didn't say shit!" They both laughed. "I'm serious, I think it's a good look for you. Keep it going." The two chatted some more, leaving Arthur and Cross standing in the corner of the room. Cross was stoic as ever, but Arthur was watching with interest. He'd never seen anyone be so brazen or casual. The beers for the two of them arrived a moment later and they both took a swig. She then came over to them.

"Aqua Pura for the lady," Belle Bonny said, handing Star Paladin Cross a bottle of purified water. She turned to Arthur and held out another bottle. "Nuka-Cola. Ice Cold."

"T-Thank you..?" He replied, taking it cautiously from her hand. She nodded and walked away; as soon as she was out of earshot, Arthur turned to Cross. "I didn't order this... I didn't order anything. Did he order it?" Arthur asked, pointing at both Thomas and Butch.

"You do not order in establishments like this, Aspirant. You respectfully take what they give you with a smile on your face." She drank her water. Arthur glanced at her and then at the Nuka-Cola bottle, then unscrewed the cap. He took a drink; it was indeed cold as ice, and quite refreshing for it.

"So whatcha need?" Butch asked, "Haircut? Switchblade repair tips? I know you didn't just come to be nice to little old me."

"Actually, I've got a job if you're interested," Thomas revealed.

"Do tell."

"Brotherhood wants me to break into the Washington Navy Yard. Might be something there worth looking into."

"What's in it for me?"

"I pay off your tab. Deal?" Thomas smirked. Butch smirked back.

"Deal, but you got to tell me one thing..."

"Shoot."

"Who's the kid?" He pointed at Arthur, who froze mid-sip when he noticed he'd been singled out. He nearly waterboarded himself with his own drink at that moment. Thomas saw this and sighed.

"It's a long story."

* * *

A few minutes later, they were back on the creaky bridge out of Rivet City. Thomas had a much lighter pocket then he had a few minutes earlier. Butch, meanwhile, was walking a few steps behind with Arthur Maxson.

"So let me get this straight. This Roger guy, you're great-great grandad or whatever... He started the Brotherhood?"

"Yes. I am the last of his line as far as I know."

"Sheesh. Must be some big shoes to fill, huh? I mean like clown shoes big. I don't envy you, kid. If I were in your shoes, trying to fill his shoes, I mean, I'd go fucking nuts."

"Butch?" Called Thomas.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, please." He did so on command, then started whistling the tune that used to play on the Vault 101 PA System. They walked to Anacostia Crossing, Thomas pushed open the old gate, and the team entered the metro. It was an unsettling place, no amount of time could change that. People crawled down here after the bombs, some looking for shelter, most for a quiet place to die. Some survived against all odds, roaming the old lines as Feral Ghouls, preying on any traveler unlucky enough to stumble upon them. No matter how many times Thomas or anyone else cleared out these tunnels, something else would inevitably move in. Kill the ghouls, then the Raiders move in. Kill the Raiders, the Super Mutants move in. Kill the Super Mutants, the Ghouls move back in. It was an endless cycle.

"Excuse me... Lone Wanderer?" Asked Arthur.

"Yeah?" Thomas answered, eyes focused on the path ahead.

"Where are we going?"

"Museum Station. Only reliable way to the Mall. Once we're on the surface, we're headed for Underworld," he revealed. Cross offered no comment, keeping a lookout for any possible threats. Butch kept whistling.

"Underworld?" Arthur repeated.

"Yeah. The Ghoul Settlement."

"Why do we need to go there?"

"I need to gather up my team. I can knock two, three birds out with one stone there."

"The Brotherhood has no presence in Underworld..."

"They're not Brotherhood," Thomas replied. Arthur went silent, unsure of how to respond, so Thomas elaborated. "Elder Lyons wants us to break into a special target. He doesn't have the manpower, so he's asking me to pitch in."

Cross interrupted, "I remember you only had two companions in Underworld."

"I do, but another friend of mine rests her head under that roof. One with experience in breaking into old world ruins. If she's there, I might be able to get her onboard. If I make it worth her while."

"Lone Wanderer, I have to protest," Arthur proclaimed as he returned to the conversation. "Rivet City are our allies, but I find it unwise to trust other outsiders. The Codex says..."

"I know damn well what the Codex says, Arthur, but I also know who I can trust to have my back when the bullets start flying." He declared. "You're here to learn. This will be an excellent opportunity to learn trust..." He paused, considering his next words. "...and stop calling me Lone Wanderer. I don't want to hear Paladin Lord either. I have a name, try Thomas or Tom."

"Y-Yes sir," replied Arthur, embarrassed and a little ashamed. He tried to move on, "these friends of yours... Are they Ghouls?"

"One of them is, yeah."

"I've never met a ghoul before... What are they like?"

"Depends on the ghoul, but as a general rule of thumb: don't let their faces scare you. They're just people."

"And what if they're feral? What then?"

"Then? Then you shoot them in the head. No one'll blame you, especially not them." They kept moving, Butch whistling all the way.

* * *

The trip through the rest of the Metro was uneventful. It seemed Brotherhood patrols had cleared it out ahead of them. They would have thanked them if they could. Unfortunately, that would be impossible. They found one Intiate lying in the stairwell up to the surface. His head had been knocked clean off, likely with a Super Sledge, and they could hear gunfire above them. Thomas reached down and pulled the holotag from around the Initiate's neck. He quietly slipped it into a pocket of his utility jumpsuit, then pulled out his pistol. He motioned to Butch to follow him up the stairs and for Cross and Maxson to stay put. He and Butch clung to the left wall and made their way up the stairs. They stopped when Thomas could poke his head out and get a good look.

Sure enough, a Super Mutant Master with a Super Sledge was fighting with a Brotherhood Paladin. Two more Brotherhood soldiers were lying dead around them, as well as several Super Mutants. Clearly, things had not gone well for either side in this engagement. The paladin was fighting with an Assault Rifle, but he wasn't quick enough. Just as the rifle clip was expended, the Sledge came down again and crushed the Paladin's helmet with his skull inside. At that moment, the clearly exhausted Super Mutant stated panting, trying to catch its breath.

Thomas whistled. The Super Mutant saw him just as he and Butch opened fire. 10mm pistols didn't pack the fiercest punch in the wasteland, but they did the job here. A few shots to the head and the Super Mutant dropped. He signaled for Cross and Arthur to ascend the stairs and start moving towards the Washington Monument. He and Butch followed close behind. Several more Super Mutants were fighting Brotherhood soldiers up and down the Mall, mainly in the trenches. Brotherhood snipers, who made their nest at the top of the monument, opened fire on the enemies scurrying below. Further up the way, out of range of the snipers, Talon Company continued to slug it out with the mutants on the steps of the Capitol Building. Out here, no one ever gained more than a few inches of ground, and they never held it for long.

Once they were past the Washington Monument, things calmed down a bit, and they made their way to the Museum of History. Willow spotted them coming, noticing the blue and gold on display, shooting a radroach in their path as a courtesy before waving them in. Thomas gave her a passing nod of thanks, Arthur looked at her with immense curiosity and a slight terror. He was even more terrified when they stepped inside and found a Super Mutant waiting for them inside the rotunda. This Super Mutant wasn't like the others though. He didn't attack them on sight, in fact when he saw Thomas, he lit up with glee.

"My friend! Ha! Ha! It is good to see you. It has been too long!" He gave Thomas what could only be described as a bear hug, one that would turn most men's bones into powder. When he let go, Thomas let out a gasp of air.

"Hey, Fawkes... Good to see you too... Just, uh, give me a second..." He panted; Fawkes's embrace had pushed all the air straight out of his lungs.

"Ah, the beautiful Star Paladin Cross. A champion of justice and righteousness in the wasteland if ever there was one... Always a pleasure." Fawkes reached out and lifted Cross's hand on his one finger like he was a gallant and dashing hero from olden times. He kissed her glove gently and released her hand.

"You flatter me with your compliments, Fawkes. You are a most honorable Super Mutant. I hope someday all may be as kind as you are."

"Now who is flattering who?" Fawkes observed. "And Butch! Ha! How goes your little gang these days?"

"Hey, you know me, baby. I take it slow."

"Ha! Always entertaining..." He and Butch shared a fist bump, and then Fawkes noticed Arthur. "Eh? Who is this?"

"That is Aspirant Arthur Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel," Cross explained.

"Yeah check this out. Tommy boy over there actually took this kid under his wing! Ha! Can you believe it?" Butch laughed aloud.

"An apprentice?" Fawkes stared intently at the young boy, who started to shake with terror as if Fawkes was about to eat him. The mutant instead grinned wide. "Wonderful! Raising up the next generation is a great honor!" He turned back to face Thomas, who was looking around the rotunda. "I did not know you had the knack for teaching, my old friend!"

"Yeah well neither did I... Listen, Fawkes, I'm getting the gang back together. Lyons gave me a job and I'm going to need a team to pull it off. Charon up in the Ninth Circle?"

"As always."

"And... her?" He made a gesture with his head towards empty air, which none of the others could quite interpret.

"The same."

"Great, just where I want her." He turned to Cross and Butch. "You two! Take Arthur and go to Underworld Outfitters. He wants to see a ghoul up close, I can't think of a more shining example. Fawkes, you and I are going to pay a visit to the Ninth Circle, come on." They took off without another word, leaving Arthur in a bit of a daze. He hadn't been the apprentice to the Lone Wanderer for more than half a day, and he'd already been abandoned by his new mentor.

"Where is he going?" He asked.

"Where you found me," Butch replied.

"Where are we going?"

"To give you some valuable life experience," Butch said with a grin.

"Come," Cross commanded, and they descended into Underworld.


	4. Hired Gun

Chapter 4

Hired Gun

Ever since Ahzrukhal's demise at the hands of Charon, the Ninth Circle had been managed by Greta. The reputation of the establishment had improved, though some people still hesitated to cross its doors. It was cleaner, neater, not as seedy as it had once been. It was still rough, though, it was not a place to rest. At night, Greta would cross the hall back to the bed she shared with Carol, and lock up. Only Charon remained, ever the silent sentinel, waiting and watching for something that probably would never come. As Thomas entered, he was spotted by Mr. Crowley, who shot him a glare of pure concentrated anger. Thomas ignored him, crossing the room to the bar area, where Charon greeted him with a stoic nod. Fawkes went over and joined him, while Thomas took a seat at the bar next to a human woman dressed in combat armor. He quickly caught Greta's attention.

"Well now, this is a surprise. Haven't seen you around in awhile," she said.

"Hey Greta," he replied politely.

"I suppose you didn't just drop by for the rotgut we have in stock. The last human who drank it said he could hear his organs screaming. Spent a week in the Chop Shop before he died of liver failure." She shrugged. "Guess he just couldn't take his liquor."

"As appetizing as that sounds, no."

"Ah... then I suppose you're here to take away my security staff." She looked in Charon's direction. He was playing checkers with Fawkes, using a chessboard and some bottlecaps in place of actual pieces. Thomas saw this and couldn't help but smile.

"Yes and no," he replied a few moments later. "Yes I do need Charon, but no that's not the only reason I came here."

"So you do want the rotgut?"

"No..."

"Then why are you sitting up here wasting my time?" She stormed off to serve another customer who was waiting patiently. Meanwhile, Thomas turned to the woman sitting next to him, who was finishing her own drink. "I can see you've made yourself right at home."

"Like she said, some people just can't handle their liquor," Sydney replied in a wobbly voice. "Speaking of which, uh, did you bring any of that moonshine? You know the exotic stuff, made by that gypsy lady in that one place... Gah... What was the name of it?" She snapped her fingers as the name danced on the perimeter of her realm of knowledge.

"Point Lookout?"

"Yes! Point Lookout! That was it..." She spaced out for a moment. "So did you bring any?"

"Didn't have time to crack open the stash. Sorry."

"Shame on you. Can't even buy a lady a drink... bring a lady a drink... whatever."

"I think you've had plenty."

"That's not true! I've only had..." She counted on her fingers, then realized she didn't have enough. "Okay, maybe I have had just a bit too much..." She leaned back in her seat and almost tumbled out of it as she had forgotten she was on a barstool, not a chair. Thomas caught her and held her with one arm, using the other to reach into his pocket and pull out a small inhaler.

"Here," he said. He had to put in her mouth like he was giving a baby a pacifier. "Breathe in." He activated the inhaler and she did so. Her eyes quickly widened, then relaxed. Slowly, she regained control of her body and was able to sit up straight again. She took a deep breath.

"Thanks..." She said with perfect articulation. "I feel... refreshed. What was that stuff?"

"Addictol. Chem from the Commonwealth. The good Doc Hoff got some off a dealer who came south recently, and I bought it off of him. It's a curious little chem... It's meant to make people sober, not high." He shook the inhaler, pressed it once or twice to no avail, and tossed it over his shoulder. It bounced off Charon's head and into a trash can, something that probably would have been impressive if anyone had seen it or cared. Charon hardly registered the impact; he was too busy figuring out how exactly a mutant whose hands were the size of the board was currently beating him at such a simple game.

"So... What's new?" She asked. "Still with the Brotherhood?"

"Yes. I just got promoted in fact."

"You still work for that Sentinel lady?" She asked, seemingly ignoring his statement.

"Sarah Lyons? Yeah. Last I checked anyway."

"Have you fucked her?" And in an instant, Thomas's entire train of thought was derailed.

"What?" was the only reply he could muster. His cheeks turned ruby red and Sydney delivered a sultry smile.

"I get it. Fucking the boss's daughter can make things complicated fast. I get why you don't want to talk about it."

"I... Sydney, I haven't fucked Sarah."

"Ah... Playing the long game are we?"

"I'm not... I didn't plan on it either."

"Oh, yes you did."

"No, I really didn't." He insisted.

"Yes, you really did." She was not going to be deterred on this it seemed. "I know it."

"And how do you know it?"

"Because I've seen her," she replied. "I'd fuck her." Thomas was beginning to like it better when she was drunk off her ass, so he got the conversation back on track, trying not to acknowledge that tangent even happened.

"I need your expertise," he said, getting straight to the point.

"About fucking or something else?"

"I want to hire you, Sydney." He spat out the words directly and distinctly. "The Brotherhood wants me to break into a facility they think is located beneath the Washington Navy Yard. Given what little information I have to go on about this place, I'm getting my old crew back together, but none of them have the experience you have. You make a living off raiding the old world!"

"Correction: I made a living. I've been retired for two years now, you know that. The Declaration of Independence was my last job." She shrugged. "Sorry."

"Come on. There has to be something that would make it worth your while. Something you want?" He asked. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. She did have to admit that sitting around Underworld for so long had gotten kind of dull, but she also had a set up that kept her fed and in bed. She had her father's last words, there wasn't anything that anyone could offer to her to make her go back out there at this point. Except, perhaps, one thing...

"I want a connection," she finally said. "Marguerite. Not fair for you to have a monopoly on Point Lookout moonshine. Plus I'll need 1600 caps up front to cover any expenses and a friend." She said. "Those are my terms." She watched for a reaction in Thomas's face and found one of relieved surprise. Given the fact that he was effectively at her mercy, she could have asked for any number of extortionate things, but her actual terms seemed pretty reasonable.

"Deal," he said, reaching into his pocket for the caps. "Just give me one second..." He dug around for a moment and came up short. "What the fuck? I had..." He stopped. "Oh fuck me."

"Can't pay for that kind of service from me..." Sydney replied, "don't care how much money is offered." He was too busy focusing on his dilemma to respond. He remembered now that he had spent all his caps paying off Butch's tab back in Rivet City. He had plenty of spare change at home, but he only carried so much around on him at any given time.

"Excuse me, Sydney. I need to go speak to somebody. I'll be right back..." He walked briskly towards the door, noticing Fawkes had one their checkers game and were starting anew. He thought about asking if they had 1600 more bottle caps lying about, but he doubted it.

* * *

Underworld Outfitters was a neat and tidy shop which made a neat and tidy profit for a neat and tidy ghoul: Tulip. Sweetest ghoul in the Capital Wasteland according to the Lone Wanderer, as well as anyone who'd met her.

"Hello!" She said, kneeling down to Arthur's height. He could swear he heard her knees creak. "What's your name?" He didn't answer. He stared. He took in Tulip's face, it wasn't what he expected. Her body didn't appear decayed, it appeared warped like her skin had melted and then cooled again. Yet her eyes, her eyes were still very much human, and they looked out with a kindness and warmth that few others in the wasteland could manage. He still didn't speak, though. He didn't know what to say. With every second that passed, Tulip's smile faded into a look of concern. "Uh... Did I do something wrong?"

"This is Aspirant Arthur Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel," said Star Paladin Cross.

"And you baby are the first Ghoul he's ever met up close and personal like," added Butch.

"Oh my! I-I didn't realize!" She stood up and took a few steps back. "I'm sorry! I know seeing a Ghoul up close for the first time... Well, we're not exactly easy on the eyes are we?" She frowned, holding her arm as she felt the decayed muscles tense up. "I'm so sorry. I wish I had known."

"N-No..." Arthur spoke up at last. "I-It's fine..." He wasn't sure how he felt about Ghouls at the moment, but he didn't like making people feel bad. Tulip's smile returned, albeit significantly reduced. Arthur took a few steps forward and shakily extended his hand. "Arthur Maxson... It... It's nice to meet you, Tulip."

"It's nice to meet you too," she shook his hand. Her hands were clad in fingerless gloves, and when Arthur pulled his hand away from her, he felt himself pull a bit of skin out of place.

"Being a Ghoul... Does... Does it hurt?" He asked. In all he had read about Ghouls in the Codex, the Scribes made no mention of whether this was the case or not.

"No," she answered. "I mean, when you're human and sick from radiation poisoning, that hurts. Once you're a ghoul, though, the pain goes away." Maxson considered this for a moment.

"The Brotherhood says being a ghoul is a curse..."

"Aspirant!" That is not appropriate," interjected Cross.

"I wasn't... I hadn't finished..." Arthur tried but was cut off by the appearance of a familiar figure in the doorframe.

"What's going on?" Thomas asked.

"Some poorly chosen words," Butch stated.

"Ah. You would know a thing or two about that wouldn't you?" Said Thomas. Cross was glaring daggers, while Arthur pouted his lips, uncertain of what he did wrong or what to say to make it right. "Quit it. All of you." He said, before making his way over to Tulip. "Sorry for dropping them on you like this."

"It's all right. He did not offend. Everyone here is well aware of how the Brotherhood feels about us..." She sighed.

"I'm not the Brotherhood," he replied, drawing Arthur's attention once again. He bit his lower lip nervously as he listened to the conversation.

"Thank you," she replied. "Anyways, what did you need? You look like you want something."

"I need a loan. 1600 caps."

"That will put a dent in my finances..." she thought aloud, "but I suppose you're good for it." She stepped behind the counter, opened up the cash register, and started to scoop the caps into a brown paper bag. When she was finished, she closed the register and handed the bag over to Thomas. "Here. Roughly 1600 caps. Pay me back whenever you get the chance."

* * *

A few minutes later, Sydney shook the bag with interest.

"I doubt you'd try to short change me." She said.

"I haggle. I don't hustle," said Thomas.

"How kind," she said. "All right, I need to run some errands before I'm ready to roll out. Where do you want to meet?"

"I've got a house in Megaton. Meet us there when you're ready. If we're not there, help yourself to the liquor cabinet. I leave the door unlocked."

"To the cabinet or the house?"

"Both." She nodded and moved to leave. Thomas spoke quick, "you mind making a quick detour while you run your errands?"

"Depends on the detour."

"Seward Square. Got some friends there I want you to talk too. Ask them if they have a map of the Washington Navy Yard."

"These friends, they got a name?"

Thomas grinned. "You'll know them when you see them. See you in a couple days."


	5. Battle Plan

Chapter 5

Battle Plan

After a few more days of humping from town to town, the gang was all there. In Megaton, they met, gathered inside the cramped little vault-themed hovel that the Lone Wanderer called home these days. Thomas himself leaned on the magnetic tape machine in front of the stairs, arms folded. He had switched from his modified utility jumpsuit into the armored Vault 101 jumpsuit he was more known for wearing. In front of him were a row of three chairs, occupied left to right by Arthur Maxson, Star Paladin Cross, and Butch. Charon sat in a swivel chair off to his right, near the kitchen. Sergeant RL-3 hovered quietly behind the row of chairs next to Fawkes. Above them, Jericho leaned over the rails on the left and Clover leaned over the rails on the right. Dogmeat lay curled at his feet.

"What the fuck is taking so long?" spat Jericho. "It's happy hour at Gob's, I should be drinking right now."

"We wait," said Thomas, "until they arrive. I've got plenty of beer in the fridge for free, take one if it's that important to you."

"Bah!" went Jericho, waving dismissively.

"Thomas... If I may ask... Why must we associate with such... disreputable company?" Questioned Maxson with barely concealed contempt. Everyone in the room looked up at Jericho.

"Fuck all of you," he said as he lit a cigarette. They all looked back down.

Thomas shrugged, "he might be a ruthless old fuck, but he's loyal and he can fight. He's gotten me through a lot of scrapes. That's enough for me." He looked up at the grizzled old raider on the railing.

"What? You expect me to cry? Fuck you kid. Only reason I'm helping you now is cause I ain't got nothing better to do."

"Except drink right?" Asked Clover, irritated. Jericho smiled, raised his eyebrows twice, and laughed. Clover rolled her eyes and shook her head. Maxson stared at her, then back at Thomas.

"Chattel slavery is outlawed by the Brotherhood of Steel. The keeping of slaves is punishable with death," Maxson reminded him.

"I know," Thomas replied. "A just punishment for a heinous crime."

"How can you say that when you own a slave?! Why not set her free?!" Maxson exploded, drawing a burst of confidence from somewhere. Almost everyone in the room was startled, save for RL-3, who lacked the capacity for surprise. Thomas, while caught off-guard at first, handled the situation calmly.

"Okay. Hey, Clover! You're free. You're no longer a slave. Do whatever you want."

"Okay. I want to be a slave, lover. Yours specifically," she said with a sultry smile.

Thomas shrugged. "All right." Arthur was shocked, even more so by the fact that he appeared to be the only one. Even Star Paladin Cross didn't seem even remotely surprised as she watched the exchange take place, nor did she have a problem with Clover's status or presence. He stared at Thomas, utterly befuddled. "Hey don't look at me."

"What did you do to her?" Asked the Aspirant.

"Hey, I didn't do a damn thing. She was like that when I bought her."

"Then what happened to her?"

"I don't know and I don't want to know." He shook his head. "I disabled the remote for the bomb awhile ago, so it's effectively harmless so long as no one tampers with it."

"Why not just disarm the collar and remove it?"

"She won't even let me touch that necklace of hers, hence why I'm not worried about anyone tampering with it. Anything else?"

"Yes. Why did you buy her in the first place?" This time when Arthur asked, Thomas did not have an answer. Not right away anyway. He thought about his next words carefully. A few of the others looked off very conspicuously in a different direction.

"I wasn't always a good person, Arthur."

"Yeah, you used to be fun," Jericho commented. Before he could come up with a reply to that, there was a knock at the door. It opened a second later and Sydney stepped in, and she was not alone. Another woman clad in combat armor, sporting a tan and bright red hair, followed her in. Thomas now understood what she meant when she said she had to cover for a friend. Sydney had a rolled up piece of paper which she handed to Thomas.

"Reilly sends her regards. Says you should stop by some time," she said. Thomas unrolled the paper and scanned over it with his eyes, nodding with satisfaction.

"There's beer in the fridge."

"Oh, that's all right. We got some drinks at Gob's. Happy hour." Her partner nodded.

"Oh fuck off..." cursed Jericho. Thomas looked at him and grinned out of the corner of his mouth, then turned his attention to Sydney's partner.

"Name?" He asked.

"Emaline," she replied with a fine mix of reluctance and bitterness. He looked to Sydney.

"Don't take it personally. She's like this with everyone. Well... Every man anyway."

"Will it interfere with the job?" Asked Thomas. Sydney shook her head. "Then I don't care. Listen up! We've been tasked by the Brotherhood of Steel to locate and breach a top secret military installation codenamed the Arsenal of Democracy. From the file given to me by Elder Lyons himself, the Arsenal is most likely intact, perhaps even undamaged by the war. If that is the case, it is likely due to extremely sophisticated security measures, so we'll have to tread carefully. Sydney here is experienced in breaking into old world facilities and surviving, so she's along for the ride. I trust her judgment, so Emaline will be coming too." He turned his attention, once more, onto his apprentice. "By now all of you should have been introduced to Arthur Maxson. He too will be coming along for this job, and probably quite a few more in the future. Keep him alive and cut him some slack if he screws up. We've all been doing this a lot longer than he has. That being said, I expect everyone to pull their weight on this one. I don't know what we're going into here, and I don't want to bury anyone. Understood?" They all gave him a form of acknowledgment. "Good. We're headed for southern DC. That's uncharted waters, so bring as much food, water, ammo, and medicine as you can. God only knows what's down there. Anyone wants any special equipment from my stash, just ask." He thought for a moment. "Oh yeah, before I forget. This isn't like our usual jobs. If and when we get into the Arsenal, you are not to take anything inside. I find out anything's missing and one of you took it, I'll cut off your fingers and sell them to the Regulators. Got it?" Once again, they all gave him some form of acknowledgment ranging from nods of approval to scoffs of derision. "All right. Mount up. We're marching on Washington."


	6. The Yards

Chapter 6

The Yards

Back at the Citadel, there was a meeting being held in the Great Hall. The Pride was in attendance, as was Rothchild and the proctors of the Orders of the Shield, Sword, and Quill. The purpose of the meeting was the future of the Brotherhood of Steel and the Capital Wasteland. It was generally known what future Lyons wanted to build: one where the self-appointed knights of the wasteland actually lived up to their name, keeping everyone safe from harm so that one day civilization could rise again. The tricky part was actually getting there.

"We are currently faced with three major security threats in the Capital Wasteland," said Sentinel Lyons. "The Super Mutants, the Brotherhood Outcasts, and Talon Company. Of those three, only the Brotherhood Outcasts pose an organized threat to us."

"Never underestimate the Super Mutants," said Bowditch. "We learned after the defeat of the Master that Super Mutants don't need to be organized to be dangerous."

"True," concurred Rothchild. "Our initial belief that the loss of Vault 87 would allow us to end the infestation was premature. Two years onwards, and they're still entrenched in the city ruins."

"What of Talon Company?" Asked Peabody. "We've occupied Fort Bannister, where are they getting their marching orders from? Jameson?"

"My scribes have done some research into this. We know that Littlehorn & Associates bankrolls Talon Company operations in the Capital Wasteland. Even so, it does not account for the constant influx of troops and weapons into the region."

"If I may speak for a moment," interjected Elder Lyons. Everyone gave him their attention. "These mercenaries, Talon Company, are without a doubt a ruthless bunch. However, in recent months I've come to question the wisdom of continuing our campaign against them. Unlike the Enclave, the Outcasts, or even the Super Mutants, Talon Company are not an enemy that only the Brotherhood can face. They possess no pre-war secrets, no power armor, no vertibirds... They are evil men with combat armor and assault rifles. I'm certain everyone in here can agree there is no shortage of men like that in the world." Everyone in the room waited to see where he was going with this. "To that end, three months ago, I asked our Lone Wanderer to put me in contact with Sonora Cruz. The Regulators will now be charged with defeating these mercenaries. The Brotherhood will no longer conduct military operations against Talon Company. We will continue to gather intelligence, but no one from this chapter is to pursue them." As he finished, Sarah sighed. She wasn't thrilled by that announcement, but she also wasn't surprised. There was a bit of murmuring, Sarah heard a few words of dissatisfaction from her own unit.

"Why weren't we told?" seemed to be the theme. They weren't against peace, but they wanted to be kept in the loop. She couldn't blame them. A short silence followed; everyone seemed to know what they were to speak about next, just not how to speak about it.

"Oh come on people..." said Rothchild. "It's been three years. Surely we can have a civilized conversation about this? What are we going to do about the Outcasts?" Another silence followed as everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Our new Paladin Lord has a working relationship with the Outcasts," said Jameson. "Perhaps once he has completed his current assignment, he could parley with Casdin. Convince him to come to the negotiating table."

"An excellent plan that has already been tried and failed," Lyons revealed with a sigh.

"We authorized such action a year ago if you recall," said Rothchild. "The reply we received from Casdin was... less than satisfactory."

"If the path of negotiation is not open to us, Elder, I see only one alternative. It has a name, it's called war," said Bowditch grimly.

"He is right, father," added Sarah. "If we cannot reunify, then our current situation is untenable. The Outcasts reach is stretching further and further with every passing month. They've fortified Fairfax, and they have a forward operating base at Bailey's Crossroads. If they acquire artillery, they'll have a clear shot at the Citadel from there. Sooner or later, blood will be spilled, and the entire Capital Wasteland will burn."

"I see... What do you suggest we do then, Sarah?" Elder Lyons asked, narrowing his old eyes.

"A preemptive strike. Send the Pride to secure Bailey's Crossroads, then move against Fort Independence. When all is said and done, we will reintegrate them by force. Those who do not cooperate will be executed for treason."

"Start a shooting war with the Outcasts? While the brunt of our forces are scattered across the Capital Wasteland?" Elder Lyons shook his head. "No. By the time we had the manpower gathered to take Fairfax, the Outcasts would be at the Citadel. Even the Pride could not take them all Sarah."

"But if we allow them to..."

"Casdin is not a warmonger. He does not seek destruction, only vindication. Attacking him would give him just that. Besides, the notion that starting a fight would prevent one down the line is exactly the kind of thinking that led us to the Great War. I will not make that mistake. We stay put. The path of diplomacy may be treacherous and slow, but I do not believe it is closed off to us just yet." Sarah opened her mouth to object but Lyons wasn't finished. "However, I understand the desire to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. Bowditch, I want you to put together plans to fortify our positions all around the Capital Wasteland. If push comes to shove, it would not look good to have the protectors of this wasteland caught unprepared."

"Yes Elder," Bowditch agreed. Elder Lyons took a moment to catch his breath.

"Now, I do believe we are due for a recess. Let's give it about half-an-hour, then I want to go over our methods for the distribution of water to the outlying settlements. Dismissed." They all stood up and shuffled out of the room, Sarah glancing over her shoulder back at her father, who remained seated. He seemed so old now, sickly almost. Perhaps it was impairing his judgment, but then again, he had never been wrong before. After she was gone, only Lyons and Rothchild remained.

"You know she's right Owyn," he said, crossing his arms. "Diplomacy has failed. Casdin will not reason with us."

"You think I do not know that?" He replied. "Our differences are irreconcilable. Still, I like to think the man still has his honor. I do not believe he will attack without provocation."

"What is belief and what is truth can often be at odds with one another, Owyn."

"True. Perhaps in my age, I have been blinded to the truth of things... No matter. My decision is made and I will not change it now."

"Nor would I ask you too," Rothchild smiled, drumming his fingers on his arms. "There was something I wanted to ask you, about Talon Company."

"Go on."

"Fifty percent of our available forces are dedicated to the Super Mutants. Thirty percent to patrols and guard details. Five percent to Project Purity and issues related to it. That leaves fifteen percent split half and half between Talon Company and the Outcasts. Even if we remove ourselves from the fight against Talon Company, it would only marginally improve our situation elsewhere."

"I'm well aware," admitted Elder Lyons.

"Is that why you sent Thomas on this mission of yours? After an arsenal that may not even exist?"

"For our sake, Rothchild, let us hope it does. Otherwise, I fear our chapter is not long for this world."

* * *

A battered piece of brickwork with a faded plaque informed them they had reached their destination. The gates of the Washington Navy Yard had been thrown open by the atomic blasts in 2077, and they would never be closed again. A light fog drifted in from the Anacostia River, glowing sparks of radioactive material dancing through it. Beyond them lay empty streets and abandoned buildings, inhabited only by rats and roaches, and even they were scarce. The ancient mechanical sentries which had guarded so many other military installations were nowhere to be found, there was just the way forward. Thomas didn't like it. Arthur didn't like it. No one liked it. There were two likely scenarios here, learned from experience: either the Arsenal did exist and the base was occupied, or the Arsenal did not exist and the base was abandoned. Neither bode well for any of them.

"Stay close together," commanded Thomas in a low voice. "Weapons ready. Fire on anything that moves."

"Way ahead of you kid," said Jericho, firing a round into a rat he could see poking its head around a nearby corner. It promptly was reduced to red giblets. Thomas frowned slightly. If the base was occupied, he did not want to go announcing their presence to the occupants. Arthur checked his laser rifle, loading a fresh microfusion cell into the chamber. Thomas personally hoped he would not have to use it.

"My friend," whispered Fawkes as they advanced. "If I may ask, where are we going?"

"Building 197. Naval Sea Systems Command. If this place exists, the entrance is there."

"And if, by chance, it does not exist?"

Thomas bit his lower lip. "Let's not think about it too much." Fawkes nodded and they pressed onwards. They walked down the street before making a sharp left turn when they ran out of road. Naval Sea Systems Command, or NAVSEA, was on their right up ahead. As they got closer, it became rapidly apparent to the team that the base was not abandoned after all. The sides of the road became line with spikes sticking out of the ground, human skulls impaled on top of them. They were spaced out very precisely, about a meter apart from one another, symmetrical on each side. All the skulls were pointed in such a way that they would look directly at anyone approaching.

The words _Abandon all hope all ye who enter here_ echoed somewhere in the back of Arthur's mind and he shuddered slightly. None of this brutality surprised him, but usually it was chaotic, body parts strewn about, blood splattered everywhere. He could handle that, it implied something less than human was responsible, a wild animal in the shape of a human. Here, however, everything was tidy, clean, and methodical. A human being did this, deliberately, to tell anyone who dared approach to turn back. Arthur was tempted to do just that, but then he remembered that he was here to prove that he was ready for this sort of thing. He was here to prove he was John Maxson's son.

"Raiders," said Cross, inspecting one of the skulls.

"Organized from the look of it," added Sydney.

"Heh," Jericho smirked, fondly reminiscing about past exploits. Thomas shot him a look and he shrugged. "Got to admire it. Some real craftsmanship went into this little spectacle."

"Remind me when we leave to remove all of these," said Thomas to Fawkes and Charon, who both nodded. He looked forward again and stopped. Everyone else stopped too.

"What's the fucking hold up?" Whispered Emaline to Sydney, who shushed her in response. Thomas raised his hunting rifle and took aim. There was something moving directly ahead of them. Looked about the size of a human or ghoul, but at the moment it was an indistinct blob, so whether it was armored or armed or any number of other things had yet to be revealed to them. They also couldn't quite determine in what way it was moving; more to the point they couldn't tell if it was moving towards them. Thomas waited a couple of seconds as the blur began to sharpen. He realized there were in fact two figures approaching, but once again any other information wasn't clear.

"Might be a patrol," whispered Charon.

"Yeah, but they don't seem to have noticed us..." Thomas thought aloud, weighing his options. As it turned out, he didn't have too. Arthur made the decision for him. He fired three quick bursts from his laser rifle, the beams glowing brightly through the fog. The unsuspecting raiders disintegrated brightly with the first two shots, and the third streaked past down the street towards NAVSEA. Thomas froze for a moment as his mind processed what just happened, then he looked down at Arthur. His eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily, his rifle was raised, and for just an instant there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. It vanished when Thomas smacked him across the back of the head with the flat of his palm. "What the fuck was that?!" Arthur opened his mouth to reply as he nursed the back of his head, but was interrupted. First by the sounds of distant shouting, then by the incoming hail of bullets unleashed by the now alerted raiders.

Everyone quickly scattered, taking cover behind whatever was available or just plopping to the ground, with the obvious exception of Fawkes who just stood there and took it before returning fire.

"Follow the beams my friends!" Shouted Fawkes as he unleashed a maelstrom of laser fire. Thomas and Arthur lay on the nearby sidewalk. Thomas made a makeshift stand out a piece of fallen brickwork and balanced his rifle across it. Arthur raised his weapon to fire again, but Thomas pushed his head firmly down to the pavement. It didn't hurt anything but Arthur's pride.

"Stay the fuck down and shut the fuck up. We'll talk when this is over."


End file.
